In the Sweet Dry and Dry

he was filling his pipe and turning over the pages of the Final edition of the paper, which had just come up from the press-room. After the turmoil of the day the room had quieted, most of the r

o, blown outward by the droning gust of an electric fan. These proved that the cartoonist (a ma

rinking-fountain. After the custom of experienced newspapermen, he rapidly twirled a makeshift cup out of a sheet of copy paper. He poured himself a draught of clear but rather tepid water, and drank it wit

emark to the city editor, when he discovered that there was only one tandsticker in the box. He struck it, and the blazing head flew off upon the cream-colored thigh of his Palm Beach suit. His naturally placid temper, undermined by thirty years of newspap

gentle curve. The band of his vizored military cap showed the initials C.P.H. in silver embroidery. His face, broad and clean-shaven, shone with a lustre which was partly warmth

ed a very large blac

Bleak?" he as

cy which would enable him to retire from newspaper work. (This is the unacknowledged dream that haunts

ew out a key and unlocked it. Before opening it he looked round the room. The city editor

nd these other gentlemen pre

gesture of

ver the suit-case

of interesting flasks lying in a porcelain container among chipped ice. In the lid was an array of straws, napkins, a flat tray

k of ice, and beneath the spellbound gaze of the watchers the glasses fumed and bubbled with a volatile potion. A glass mixing rod tinkled in the th

rail!" cried Ble

glasses forward. "With the compli

o his feet. Sagely cynic

t! It's a trick on the part of the Departmen

intolerably cruel one! In front of him the glasses sparkled alluringly: a delicate mi

ement. "Are you a damned government agen

tood erect and unabashed. With affectionate c

stood idealist grieved his features. "Have you forgotten the miracl

ized it.

FOR THE PERPETUA

araway

leton, Assoc

ard, stupefied, and hand

rresponsible souls, unoppressed by the embittered suspicion of th

h of Eden!

remarked another, wit

ese marks of honest appreciation. He waved an encouraging arm over

k's hand went out to the nearest glass. He raised it to his lips. An almost-forgotten formula recurred to him. "Down the rat-hole

rom his room. "Holy cat!" he cried in amazement. "What's go

aimed. "Who's been

turned to where Quimbleton had been standing

editor genially. "There was a kind of M

e reporters. "There's a story in

aded his mental fabric. "A story?" he said. "Forget it! This is no story.

s pipe. Then he put on his coa

that the next day's cartoon was one of the least su